My team’s first three days in the Philippines were spent with Kids International Ministries. During this time we got a glimpse of different neighborhoods and ministries in the Manila area, in a way allowing us to see where some girls come from before ending up in the bars.
One of those places was a garbage dump, a place I’ll never forget. We visited with people who live in poverty like I’d never seen before. They sort through garbage and collect things to sell like scraps of wood or metal. They live on top of an old landfill, garbage underneath them, sometimes digging into the earth to gather garbage from there. We went up there to give the children food. We walked around calling all the children to let them know we were having a feeding. As we walked through, I found myself holding back tears as I saw how dirty all the kids were. I kept telling myself to just hold it together until we left, then I would use our car ride home to cry.
After we got all the kids gathered together, our ministry contact with K.I.M. introduced us to a little boy, I’ll call him “R”. He told us a little of this boy’s story. He has many siblings, his mother is often gone in the dump trying to get money for the family, and is often “watched” by his next oldest brother who was maybe about 5. R had thin arms and legs but a bloated belly. He wore no clothes and was very dirty. His legs and bottom were covered in cuts and he had a large scrape on his head. He looked weak and lethargic and had no life in his eyes. When our contact set him down I looked at him and thought to myself, “based off his size and the fact that he can walk, I would guess he’s about 1 year old.” He was 3 years old. I couldn’t believe it when our contact told us. I thought of my 2 year old nephew who was probably 2 or 3 times R’s size. Just as I stood there shocked and horrified by the reality of this little boy, the people from the church who brought us up there started smiling, clapping, and singing kids’ songs—expecting me to join in leading these songs. I thought to myself, “I don’t want to smile and be joyful. How can I? I want to go off alone somewhere and just cry for R.” It was then that I heard the Lord say to me,
“Smile. They need to know there’s hope.”
I felt his conviction and knew he was right. These people didn’t need anyone coming up just to pity them and cry at how horrible their situation was. What would be the purpose in that? I should’ve stayed home if that was all I was going to come up there for. We did not come up there purposeless and defeated. We came up there carrying a hope that was greater and a victory already won. I decided I was not going to show up there just to cry for them, but to offer real and tangible hope that was desperately needed. So with all the genuine joy and conviction I could muster, I sang the songs, truly believing the words and hoping the people there would understand and know the hope I’d found.
After we sang the songs, we served them food, having just the exact amount of rice needed to feed everyone.
We returned to the church we came from and one of the women from the church who went with us shared with us her story. She told us that was where she grew up. You would never know it looking at her now. She shared about how God provided for her to go to school and she is now attending college for psychology. They also shared with us about how the pastor who started that church (who unfortunately passed away just a few months before we got there) came from a similar upbringing. Despite where he came from, he started a church that is now strong and is still carrying on the work he started. Our contact then said, “You guys might look at someone like R and feel like his situation is hopeless, but you never know, one day R could become a doctor.”
As we left, I realized I no longer needed to cry. Instead I found myself blown away by this new picture of just how great God’s hope is. To go to perhaps the most dark and hopeless place I’d ever seen and to see that God’s hope is still greater, got me fired up for the Lord.
This new lesson was something I was so thankful to carry with me before going to another place of utter darkness and hopelessness: the bars on walking street in Angeles City where girls are trafficked for sex (stay tuned for part 2 to read about my experiences there!)
